The House of Red
by Ghost4
Summary: There is a darkness wandering the kingdoms. Innocent blood is being spilled, and a war that has been ignored for years is about to flare up. Will it burn through the kingdoms?
1. House of Red: Chapter 1

Hey-

Not anymore dead than I was before. Can't, can not, get into the future mind-set, so couldn't work on Early Days, at least right now. But I wanted to write tonight, and this idea has been biting at me. So, anyway-

::EDIT:: I HATED the way the chapters were running so I'm re-posting. Sorry. Hopefully I have the new HR working. Why won't FFN let me use asterisks as my brakes anymore?

Anyway, I know the title has been over used. But it's a great title… and the real title of the real sequel we will probably never get to see (though I would buy the book if they would put it out).So I used it. I lack imagination.

Again, no promises- I'm making this up as I go.

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:: For the reviews I know will disappear when I reload this thing. Thanks guys. ::

Hi Brit. Long time, no see… er, you know what I mean. I hope to be able to get back to Andromeda soon. I miss Harper. Heh. And I feel your pain. Hope real life lightens up for you real soon.

Dr. Huff-Puff: Thanks for the review! And yeah, the former chapter two was supposed to echo the red riding hood tale. How the House of Red becomes involved will get…well, not _clear_ precisely, but less murky once the Spring Festival comes to pass. Thanks again for the review! Hope you enjoy. :)

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As always, any feedback - good, bad or indifferent - is welcome.

Thanks

ghost

Disclaimer: I don't own. I'm making no money. (Though if I had money, I would be paying to have the sequel filmed, as TPTB should have done.)

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* * *

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_Now this is the Law of the Jungle – as old and _

> _as true as the sky;_

_And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper,_

_ but the Wolf that shall break it must die._

The Second Jungle book:

The Law of the Jungle, st. I

* * *

_(Monday 5:17 am, Tenth kingdom)_

His name was Wolf, and he was dreaming of the forest.

In these dreams he was the wolf; strong, fearless, fearsome and…hungry. Eternally empty, his stomach a pit, a hole, and endless maw that could never be filled, never be silenced, never be satisfied…

A twig snapped. His ears pricked. A sniffle sounded. His nose twitched. His eyes penetrated the entwined branches to see…

A girl. Lost. Alone. Sniveling in the woods.

And the wolf needed. The wolf wanted. The wolf had to have…_now_….

And he was on top of the girl. And she was screaming. And he could smell her _everywhere_, sweaty and wet and sticky with tears, feel her twisting under him, see the tears and blood on her dirty face - see the way her chest heaved, hear the way her breath pulled and snagged in her delicate throat as she tossed her head back to shriek, and the wolf's jaws darted forward, toward her arched and offered neck, ready to take the pale flesh into his teeth and taste her, fill himself with her—

-- Wolf jerked awake, gasping. _Bad dream,_ he thought, shaking. _Bad, bad, evil dream. Not me. Evil dream. Evil wolf. Not me._

Except that it had felt like him. And he hadn't felt bad or evil. He had felt…

He had felt… _good_…

Wolf shuddered. Next to him in the bed, his mate shifted in her sleep. He guilty stroked her hair, murmuring apologies for disturbing her and soothing her back into sleep. She had not slept well of late, haunted by images of her mother and father and of the killing. She needed her rest—even if his was finished for the night.

Rising carefully, he slid from the bed they shared and padded from the room without waking her. Their hotel suite was dim and silent. His internal clock told him it was pre-dawn, but not by much. The sun would be up within the hour; his love, about an hour after that. He walked over the fine, thick carpet – passed the sofa and chairs that Virginia had warned him were incredibly expensive –without turning on any lights and pulled open the drapes that covered the big glass windows in the main room.

He stood in the window, starring down almost 35 stories to the shadowy woods on the other side of the street. The woods lay quiet and dark and soothing… so close, and so very far away. _It's a good time to hunt,_ the wolf whispered in his blood. He blocked it out. His nose twitched as he unconsciously tried to breathe in the scent of green and growing and spring…and he winced when all he could smell was dust and humans and faintly metallic air that Virginia had said meant 'air-conditioning'.

Didn't matter. That wasn't a real forest anyway. It was 'the park', and had little of the wild dark of a true wood about it. Still, he stood at the window long enough to watch the sun rise over the trees and the little paths fill up with early morning runners. He wondered idly what they were running for…or from.

Sighing at the pang in his chest, he dropped the curtains on the dawn and padded into the suite's kitchen, intent on making breakfast before his love rose to face the day. She really needed to eat more. She worried him.

He liked the kitchen. True, its brightness, its coolness and sharpness, were nothing like the kitchens he had grown up with in the kingdoms…but here kitchens were places of magic and miracles.

He toggled the switch on the wall as he came in, triggering the fake candles in the ceiling. Bright metal and clean white walls glittered before him. He smiled and opened the refrigerator. It wasn't big, according to Virginia, but there was room for them to store a few things in the unit. Some fruit. Things to drink. Leftovers from restaurants they went to. Eggs. Bacon.

He pulled out the last two items and set them on the counter. He turned the switch that made the stove burners ignite… fire from a switch. It still made him a little uneasy. But he was adapting. He was learning what things were good and what were bad, here. And he was figuring out the magic here, too. Oh, Virginia said there was no magic in the Tenth kingdom…but she had once thought there were no Wolves here, either, yet here he was. So he figured she was wrong about the 'no magic' thing. Besides, if there was no magic here, then someone would have to explain microwave ovens better then just 'they cook by light'. He knew magic when he saw it, thank you.

He fried the bacon, the whole pound. Cut a tomato into thin slices and put them on plates with a half an orange. He set the small table in the nook just off the sitting room, stole a couple of bacon strips, and had just started the eggs when he heard Virginia coming out of the bedroom.

"Morning," she muttered, walking blindly past him on her way to the bathroom. He smiled. His love was so cute first thing in the morning, all dappled and drowsy.

He pricked his ears and listened as she thumped around in the bathroom for awhile (bathrooms were another thing to which he was happily adapting). He timed the eggs to be done as she came back out, yawning. Stretching. Showing teeth. He watched appreciatively.

Eventually she opened her eyes and caught him looking. She smiled a little. "What big eyes you have, Mr. Wolf."

He grinned and growled and then said, "Food," and went to fetch the breakfast plates.

* * *

(Monday 10:42 am, 2nd kingdom)

Spring had come early to the second kingdom. And nowhere did this show its glory more than the path running through the woods. After a deep, quiet winter full of snow and starlight, the mild weather was very welcome. Though it was still early, there had been a run of several unseasonably warm days, and the trees had taken full advantage of the warmth. Branches spread over the path, near bursting with white blossoms as wild cherry and apple and pear woke to the sun. Quince bushes flowered pink and pretty, like frothy lace. Hawthorn was shyer, but tiny green buds graced even its thin, sharp limbs. Wild grape ran purple and green through the underbrush, and blue violets and white maiden's blush grew scattered in the lush green of the new grass.

Yester-eve it had turned chill and blustery, a brief storm had come through dragging cooler air behind it. Now the raindrops clung like jewels to the flowers and the water in the air trapped their perfume, so that the whole of the walk was sweet and fresh. The mid-morning sun glittered through the branches. The woods glowed, marvelous and magical and new…the eternal promise of spring.

And a voice as new and fresh as the flowers rang out in the trees:

_And she shall bring the birds in spring,_

_And dance among the flowers._

A girl skipped down the path, her voice achingly pure in the chill air. She was maybe as old as eight, and paid no attention to how hard she was swinging her basket as she sang to the woods.

_In summers heat, her kisses sweet,_

_They fall from leafy bowers._

She was completely lost in the beauty of the spring, happily caught in its spell. She skipped to her song, and the basket jerked and bounced with her. Her heavy red coat hitched on her shoulders, the hood bouncing on her back.

_She cuts the grain and harvests corn_

_The kiss of fall surrounds her._

_The days grow old and winter cold,_

_She draws her cloak around her._

A twig snapped.

The girl stopped suddenly. She stood, quiet and still, head cocked as if listening, a wary edge to her posture… like a rabbit about to bolt. Her nostrils flared. Somewhere in the woods a flock of birds spooked and flew.

She waited, waiting long seconds for another sound, another sign of danger… but seconds passed without anything odd and slowly she eased. She knew the woods could be dangerous, but she was sure of the path, and of the bright sunlight. And really, what could happen on a day as perfect as this?

But, still, the time for songs was over. She needed to pay attention to her surroundings if she was to find enough food for her and her grandmother. She had been hunting since dawn and had barely enough to break the fast. So she set out again, but no longer singing, and had gone no more then a few steps when a man, a stranger to her, stepped out from behind a large oak tree.

"Hello, little girl."

"H-hello. Sir," The title was an after thought. A politeness trained into her from the time she was old enough to babble (_Be a good girl. Be a nice girl_). The man was dressed finely enough to warrant it, though. Blue velvet over black leggings. A red silk sash cut over his shoulder and across his torso. It was knotted at his waist and long enough that the loose ends fluttered in the breeze. He leaned casually against the tree, a very slight smile playing around his mouth. He smelled of horses and leather and steel…and something darker, musty and cold.

"What do you have in the basket, little one?" His tone was polite, even charming…except for the bitter mockery lying under it, like a dark echo.

The girl stepped back, even though she was several feet from the stranger. "Nothing, sir. Some food for my grandmother." _Be a good girl. Be a nice girl. Don't be so rough, girl!_

"Ah," he smiled disarmingly, stepping down from his perch on the tree roots and walking toward her. "And what kind of food do you bring your dear Grandmother, hum?" He reached out and snatched at her basket, tipping it and dumping dead rabbits onto the grass. Their little necks had been broken. They were freshly killed. He prodded them with the toe of his boot as she clung to her basket, breathing hard.

He looked up from the kill, staring at her through blond bangs. "Such a dutiful grand-daughter. Your family must be…proud to have a girl such as yourself," he sounded doubtful.

"I wouldn't know about that, sir. They have me as I am."

"True," his smile deepened. "They have you as you are. They suffer you because they…love you? Do they love you, child? Can a little beast such as you understand the concept of love?" His head was cocked curiously; his eyes and tone light and friendly.

"They…they love me, yes," she stuttered, confused by the tone and words. _Be a good girl. Be a nice girl_. He had gray eyes. Almost colorless. She felt as if those eyes could absorb all they looked upon, they were that hollow.

He stepped forward; she skipped back slightly, instinctively, hugging her basket to her chest. He smiled again.

"That is a fine basket, little girl. Such a wonderfully intricate weave. Did you make such a fine thing?"

She stumbled back again as he walked toward her, deep eyes locked onto hers.

"No? Well, no. Of course not. You're far too ... bestial to have created that little piece of elegance. Was it your mother, perhaps?"

"M-My Grandmother."

"Your Grandmother," it was a sneer, contempt freely shown for the first time. "I admit myself curious to meet that oft spoken of person. What kind of old woman, what kind of creature, could spawn a line that could allow you? Perhaps I should pay her a call sometime, hum?"

The girl cringed from his words, fear and anger meeting and mingling in her blood. Her instincts, long suppressed by countless relatives _(Be a good girl. Be a nice girl. Don't be so rough, girl)_ flashed along her nerves. The world brightened, sharpened. It was bad to feel this way. Wrong. Evil, even. She knew. She had been told. She hated feeling this way…and she _loved_ it. Her lips pulled away from her teeth in an instinctive snarl; her eyes flashed yellow/green. She backed away from the _(predator/hunter/killer)_ man as he grinned at her, stalking her. Taunting her.

She could clearly scent the dark musk on the man now. And she knew it now for what it was.

The Man smelled of Death.

"Come here, little wolf," he said, "I've a treat in store for you."

She turned to run-

-but too late.

* * *

(Wednesday 3:30 pm tenth kingdom)

It had been a good winter, Wolf reflected. That first night Wolf had been a little worried… they had spent it wandering the tenth kingdom with nowhere to sleep, as Virginia made plans and spoke of things that made little sense to him.

But the next morning she had taken them to a large square building, filled with stuffy, middle-aged men -- who Wolf figured had been caught by some sort of anti-happiness curse, because they were all frowning at everything. Virginia had spoken to the men for a bit, and then she handed the men the bag of gold and jewels that Wendell had pressed on her before they left his kingdom. The stuffy men had instantly become less stuffy and much friendlier -- and one had even smiled so Wolf had supposed he must have been wrong about the whole curse thing. The men gave Virginia a small book and a plastic card and told them that if they needed anything all they had to do was ask…but Virginia had stomped on his toe when he opened his mouth, so he thought the men might have been lying about that.

After that Virginia had brought them to a huge building with the unusual name of "The Plaza". She had checked them into the suite using the piece of plastic the stuffy men had given her. "This isn't for long, you know," she had said as the bellhop left and he had sniffed around the rooms for the first time. "I don't plan on living off of Wendell. But you'll need time to adjust and I need … time." He had looked up at her, caught the hurt and exhaustion in her blue, blue eyes. "And, well, it's not a bad thing, right?" she asked, "To want a nice vacation? I've been working since I was like, eleven, and you've… you've never really just had time either, right? So it's not so wrong to just want a break! Is it?"

Wolf, who had no idea what she was talking about but recognized her need to be reassured, was instantly attentive. "No, beloved. No. Not a bad thing. And believe me, I know bad. You just need to rest. Resting is good," he kissed the top of her head. "Everything will look better in the morning."

And so they had wintered in the grand hotel, venturing out when she thought of something new to share with him, or when he got too restless. She began to deal with her memories, and he held her as she wept like the lost little girl she had been. Other times they went out for ice-cream and sweets and played in the snow in the park, and he smiled as she laughed like the little girl she should have had the chance to have been. And they went home cold and happy to the den in the hotel, and were safe and warm and together and with each other in mind and body….

And whatever Wendell had given her must have been worth a lot of money because they'd had enough to just be with each other the whole winter long and not worry about anything… and it had been a sweet, sweet time, their happily ever-after….

And now, as they strolled through the park, he couldn't help but think of how well the smell of the early spring buds on the trees complemented her scent…which now had an undertone of new growth as well. She was just beginning to show now. A very slight bulge she hid with loose tops and jackets. Smiling he reached over and stroked her midriff and she smiled back a little and pulled his hand gently away, trapping it in her own.

"So… what did you think?" she asked, throwing him nervous little sideways glances as she clung to his hand.

She had taken him to see a play today. 'Into the Woods', it was called. She had told him it was about fairy-tales – about the Nine Kingdoms, really. And it had been… and a little too accurate, in some ways.

_Into the woods…to kill the wolf! _

He suppressed a shudder.

"It was good," he said finally, watching his feet. "The history was a little off, because, well, Cinderella's prince never left her, for one thing. And Queen Repunzel is still alive…"

"Repunzel is alive?"

"Oh yes. She's stuck snoozing with pretty much everybody else in the fifth kingdom."

"Snoozing?"

He nodded, "Yes. The entire fifth kingdom was trapped by the curse put on Rapunzel's daughter, Beauty."

She blinked at him, "You're talking about Sleeping Beauty."

He nodded, still watching his feet.

"You're telling me that Sleeping Beauty is in the Nine kingdoms, still asleep."

"Yes."

"Well, why hasn't some charming prince woken her up yet?"

He shrugged. "Many have tried. The younger sons of royal houses, mostly. Nobody's made it yet."

"That's just…" she laughed a little. "I was gonna say unbelievable, but having been there, I believe it."

He nodded again. They walked in silence for awhile. He kept hearing the play in his head–

_she kills people!_

_and how many wolves have you killed?_

_ it's just a wolf, it's not the same thing._

_tell that to a wolf's mother._

-- and she was watching him. He could feel it. It made him want to shiver and cringe at the same time.

"What's wrong, Wolf?" she said, suddenly, looking at him with concern.

"Wrong?" _…but not to tempt the wolf…_

She rounded on him, stopping. "Wrong! You've never been this quiet, this still. Now tell me what's going on!"

"Nothing," he said, shying from her a little. "Just…bad dreams this morning. It's nothing." He pulled free of her hands. "Hey! I smell meat. Do we have enough for hot dogs? Please?" He smiled in his most charming manor and batted his lashes at her.

She laughed and shook her head. "I don't know where you put it."

He was drawing her down the walk now, "Huff-puff, but a wolf's gotta eat! And so do you. C'mon."

Still smiling she followed him to the cart, paid for the food, and allowed him to lead her deeper into the park.

* * *

(Wednesday 4:13 pm, 4th kingdom)

"Wendell!"

The young king rolled his eyes as Anthony's voice echoed loudly down the hall. The two members of his council who were walking with him muttered darkly to each other. Anthony was not respected among the other of his advisors, and his complete lack of protocol did nothing to help improve his standing. Wendell knew there were many rumors circulating about just why he kept Anthony about; everything from being grateful for his help during the whole dog fiasco, to entertainment value- much the same reason a king would keep any fool.

What none of them understood was that he kept Anthony near not in spite of his informality—but because of it. Anthony had a way of jarring him, of waking him up. Of keeping him from thinking like the spoiled little King he had been raised to be.

"Wendell!"

Of course, his informality wasn't always a good thing.

Turning to the old, very traditional men next to him, Wendell dismissed them with thanks and stood waiting as Anthony caught him up.

"Wendell," Anthony exclaimed for the third time, causing Wendell to wonder if the man was aware that he did know what his name was.

"Yes, Anthony, what is it."

Anthony's face was red and his breath was hard. He was either incredibly vexed, or winded from the long walk down the hall.

"Wendell! Did you see what those idiots want me to wear to the festival? Did you see it?"

Definitely vexed then. Wendell rolled his eyes. "It's traditional dress for my chief advisor, Anthony."

"That's just it! It's a freaking dress!"

"It's a robe."

"It's a dress!"

"It's a royal robe."

"It's a pink dress!"

"My grandmother liked pink."

"It's even got all that- that flowncy lace all over it!"

Wendell sighed, "Well, styles were different when my grandmother was Queen…"

"I'm not wearing it."

"Anthony, it's traditional garb for the high advisor-"

"And," Tony cut the young king off, "as your high advisor, I'm telling you that this is one tradition you want to loose."

Wendell grinned. "It's a tradition that you want to loose. I'm rather enjoying it."

"Ha!" Anthony exclaimed loudly, his sharp bark bouncing off of the walls. "Ha! I knew it! I knew you were just setting me up! Well I won't do it! There's no way I'm going to embarrass myself in front of everyone in the Fourth kingdom like that… and especially not in front of Virginia."

Wendell's grin turned into a smile. "So Virginia is coming, then?"

Tony blinked. "Well, yeah. I mean, I guess. Why wouldn't she?"

Wendell closed his eyes, "You haven't asked her yet?"

"I, eh, I haven't gotten around to it yet," he waved a hand dismissively. "I'll get to it soon."

"Anthony, the festival begins in less then two days."

"Well, I've been, uh, busy."

"Ah, yes," Wendell said dryly, "and how are the Ladies Ester and Fawna?"

"Hey now," Tony glared. "Besides, who are you to talk. All I've heard about the past few weeks is this festival and all of the princesses and daughters of royal houses that attend."

"Well, you haven't heard it from me. I've little interest in this festival, and less in those … ladies, and I use the term loosely, who will soon be flocking me like carrion birds." The young king turned and started striding down the hall, forcing Anthony to walk along.

"So why are you doing it?"

Wendell shrugged. "I'm the King, Anthony. More than that, I am the only survivor of the House of White. I must find a wife and start a family as soon as possible for the stability of the Kingdom. A Spring Festival is the traditional method kings and princes use to find a mate."

"Uh-huh. You know what I think? I think you're all way too caught up in tradition."

Wendell stopped. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. It's always 'traditional' this, and 'ancient' that with you people. You know what I say? Get over it! Live your own lives, take a chance. Take a risk. Try something new. And just consider the vague possibility that what worked in the good old days might not be a viable option for you!"

Wendell waited patiently through out Anthony's speech, then asked him, "Finished?"

Tony stopped a moment, looked thoughtful, and then nodded. "Uh, yeah."

Wendell nodded, "Fine. Than go and invite your daughter to the festival. Now."

Tony nodded and turned, walking back down the hallway the way he had just come up. Before he got too far away, Wendell called out, "Oh! And I'll tell the royal tailor that you will be in for your robe fitting tomorrow morning, shall I?"

Wendell chuckled as Tony cursed behind him.

* * *

(Wednesday 5:08 pm, 2nd kingdom)

"Cut it down," the Captain's voice fell flatly. No one moved, as if by standing perfectly still they could deny the reality of the grizzly sight in front of them. Then the cold, wet wind picked up again and the branch creaked as its sickening decoration swayed, dancing horribly. Coddry Jeisean swallowed bile and tried to ignore the smell. "I said, cut it down!"

His horse snorted, shifting uneasily, either because of the reek of rotting flesh, or because of his shout. Or both, most likely. He stroked the heavy neck and watched as a guardsman was boosted up the tree. Dangling from the boughs was a child; or what was left of one. Her smock torn and dirtied; her face black and shinny and swollen. Her arms were brown from the dried blood covering them, and they and her little legs jerked and pulled like a badly worked puppet as the guardsman crawled awkwardly out onto the branch. The man gracelessly cut the cord holding the pathetic little body in the air. The body fell the few feet to the ground and hit with a stiff thud. Coddry jerked. He wasn't the only one.

He watched as two of his men approached the body and shifted it onto a blanket, which was reverently folded over the child's face and limbs. The terrible bundle was then settled on a liter…ready to be borne back to the village, where a family waited for news of their missing girl.

And dark news this would be; their girl taken into the forest and beaten, violated and hung. Her ears carved from her head. The same news that he had brought families too often this spring. Four children dead in as many weeks. Seven adults as well. One entire family massacred one night. All the victims tortured. All murdered.

And all suspected by neighbors of being wolves.

As his lieutenant delivered to him the now familiar calling card of a deep red velvet sash - removed from the girl's throat where it had been used to hang her- Coddry knew he would have to take steps. Wolf or not, this child had not deserved to die. Not like this.

It was time to notify the Lady.

* * *

Tony hated mirror travel. The nausea inducing speed, the intense disorientation, the heart-stopping twists. All in all, he would have to say it sucked.

But, as the mirror spit him out in Central Park – as he got his first whiff of smog, car-exhaust and wet pavement, he couldn't help but smile. "I'm home," he whispered, and wandered into the park, wondering just where he was to find his daughter.

* * *

"Right about here," Wolf said, smiling wistfully as he squeezed Virginia's hand.

"Right about here, what?" They had finished their impromptu picnic and were just wending through the park, enjoying the fresh warmth that the early spring offered.

He glanced at her, seeming embarrassed. "This is where I first smelled you. Just a whiff of your scent. Just a tease, a promise. Right here."

"Here?" She looked around at the rather empty section of the park, at the long, lonely path. "I was nowhere near here the night I found Prince."

He shrugged. "The air carries people and places and things. You didn't need to be _here_ for me to know that you were here."

She frowned at him.

He sighed. She would never trust easily. "Watch."

He tilted his head and breathed deep, pulling the air deep inside himself – welcoming the stories it brought. He sorted through the scents he didn't need – the cats and rats and squirrels. The dogs and cars and people, both the unwashed and the perfumed. He was just about to report all of this to his love when he caught a faint, but ever familiar tang. He jerked, and his eyes opened with a bright yellow flash. He grinned wickedly and grabbed Virginia's hand. "C'mon," he said, jogging into the trees and dragging her after, ignoring her protests.

He shushed her, saying, "Be very quiet. We're hunting."

She gave him that look he had come to know so well – a mix of amusement and exasperation, but she quieted.

He moved steadily, but silently, toward his prey, guided by his nose and ears and a deeper sense- an instinct that said, _go here, and here, and stop, and go_…. His beloved trailed behind, not slowing him, but still making too much noise. She amused him the way a cub would have amused him. He had much to teach her still.

He had no particular worries about her noise, though. The prey was known to him, and a thick skulled, sense-dead creature it was. Still, it could be tricky…. His eyes began to glow softly, a barely noticeable glimmer in the dappled light of the trees, as he pulled his mate down into the brush beside him.

* * *

Tony cursed as he turned around in a full circle. He had no idea where he was. _You would think, _he thought, _that after trekking through the disenchanted forest, and climbing a mountain and wading through a swamp… you would think I could find my way through Central Park._

He cursed again. Loudly.

Something giggled.

Tony stopped dead, instantly wary. While once he would have ignored it as a figment of his imagination, he had spent too much time in the kingdoms to discount such a sound now. At worst it could be something small, pretty and petty – something that enjoyed _playing_ with lost travelers. At best it could be someone who could point the way out of this thicket. Either way he had nothing to loose by tracking the sound. Whatever made it obviously already knew he was here.

He headed for the sound, stumbling through the slight underbrush…until his foot caught on something hard and he went down with a breathless little "oof".

As the giggling became outright laughter, Tony looked up to see his darling daughter chuckling at him while the Wolf rolled amused eyes.

"I told you he heard you. Tripped right over you, in fact," Wolf said, reaching out to give Tony a hand up. "Hi, Tone," he added absently, shaking his head at the young woman now sitting on a tree root.

"Wolf!" Tony sputtered, allowing himself to be hauled to his feet, "What are you doing here?"

"Hunting you, actually. Smelled you a while back. Aren't you done yet?" The last was addressed to Virginia, who was slowly bringing her chuckling under control and wiping tears out of her eyes. Wolf smiled down at her. She had leaves in her hair. "You'll never be a hunter at this rate."

"Sorry, sorry," she gasped, "It was just – the look on his face…lost in Central Park!" And she smiled up at him with such love… a kind of love he hadn't seen from her in so many, many years… that he completely forgot he was angry - at her at least. "Hi, dad."

"Hi, baby." He said, absently. He turned on the Wolf. "What do you mean, 'hunting me'?"

Wolf shrugged. "Smelled you. Hunted you. Virginia needs the practice."

Tony lowered his head, glaring at the Wolf through narrowed eyes. "I don't like the idea of being hunted. And I like the idea of you teaching Virginia your wolfish ways even less!"

Wolf snorted at Tony in an unfriendly sort of way, twitching slightly. Virginia stood up, still smiling. "Don't start now, boys. Please. You've only just laid eyes on each other." She walked over and wrapped her arms around her father. "It's good to see you, daddy."

He returned the hug, plus more. "You too, sweetheart. I've missed you."

"Me too," with a sigh she pushed him away slightly. "So, what brings you to our neck of reality?"

"A royal invitation, actually," Tony said, as he tried to ignore Wolf circling them.

"An invitation?"

"Yep. Wendell is having a thing, and you are formally invited."

"And me? Am I invited too?" Wolf had circled around and come back to Virginia's side, one hand possessively on her arm.

Wendell had never actually mentioned Wolf, Tony now realized. Maybe the young king didn't want the Wolf at his shindig. But, then again, Wendell had never specifically excluded him either. Perhaps the lack on invitation was simply because Wendell had assumed (and rightly so) that Wolf would just follow Virginia wherever she happened to go, welcome or not.

Thankfully Tony didn't have to answer. Instead, Virginia smacked the hand on her arm and said, "Of course you are. You're one of the saviors of the realm, after all. Wendell wouldn't _not_ invite you to his… his what? What exactly are we invited to?"

"It's a whole thing. A three day festival with some fancy dances, like a ball," Tony waved a hand dismissively.

But Wolf's ears pricked up. "A Spring Ball?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think that's what they called it."

Wolf grinned, an impish glow to his eyes, "Our little king is all grown-up and looking for a mate, huh?"

"How do you people know this stuff?"

"C'mon, Tony. Everybody knows this stuff."

"Not normal people."

"Normal people don't even know about the kingdoms, dad," Virginia put in, sighing slightly. She started brushing off the seat of her pants. "Do you need to get back right away?" she asked him.

"Not really, no," he said, thinking of the appointment with the royal tailor he could stand to miss. "You got something in mind?"

"Just home. Or the hotel, I mean. I'm kind of tired."

And before Anthony could even open his mouth to ask what hotel, Wolf was by her side, apologizing for having her out so long and asking if she needed anything, anything at all…?

Virginia rolled her eyes at her father at this show, and fended Wolf off with a skill obviously born of long practice.

And so a bemused Tony found himself following his daughter and her Wolf out of Central Park and into his old home town.

* * *


	2. House of Red: Chapter 2

* * *

Disclamer: Don't own. Making no money. Simply expressing my apprecation for the story by particapation. 

Thanks to all reviewers. You made my days brighter. Sorry I have'nt gotten back to all of you yet.

As always all feedback, good, bad or indifrent is welcome.

* * *

_(Thursday 1:08 pm, 2nd kingdom)  
_  
The girl eyed the trees nervously. The borders, never friendly to a casual traveler, were now heavily guarded. Somehow...somehow the house of Red knew.  
  
Was there a traitor in the ranks?  
  
The girl doubted it. Honestly she did. They had all suffered too much, had paid in pain and blood and loss. In the wisdom of her twelve years, she knew none of them would ever hand information to the royal house. Not for anything.  
  
And maybe she was being paranoid. Maybe this border was always this heavily patrolled. It wasn't like she had ever been here before. Or, maybe the guards weren't of the house of Red at all. Maybe they were White guards – perhaps the royal house of the fourth Kingdom was responsible for the sudden increase in patrols. If they were White guards... she was safe.  
  
If they were Red guards....  
  
Either way, her path led across that border.  
  
She stepped out of the brush, moving quietly and quickly, attempting to avoid the guards notice.

* * *

The Plaza. His darling daughter had come back to New York and shacked-up with that Wolf at the Plaza hotel. His darling unmarried daughter had come back to New York and shacked-up with that Wolf at the Plaza hotel.  
  
What was this world coming to?  
  
Tony gripped his bag tightly as he walked up 53rd street, head-down and as unobtrusively as he could manage. Which wasn't much, as his arms clutched a large duffle bag full of bottles of warm beer. The poor old refrigerator had finally give up the ghost, but the apartment - still his apartment, because Murry, who was still proclaiming himself Tony's slave, had kept it for him - was littered with countless bottles of his favorite beer. He planned on taking the duffle with him when he went back to the fourth kingdom. The wine made in the Kingdoms was good, and ale and mead and beer were okay... but Tony had been craving this brand of beer for months.  
  
Stooping down, he set the overloaded bag gently on the sidewalk and pulled out a bottle. He twisted the cap off with a professional hand and leaned against a convenient building, drinking and thinking.  
  
He wasn't sure visiting the old apartment had been such a good idea, now. Last night, as he sat with Virginia and Wolf it had seemed the most natural thing in the world. Why wouldn't he want to drop by the old apartment building? Oh, he'd had no intentions of staying, but there were a few things he'd wanted to recover, clothes and keepsakes... pictures from Virginia's childhood. His college diploma. His parents' wedding photo.  
  
Afterward though, it had only depressed him. He had expected it to pump him up- make him feel like he had turned his life around. After all, he was now the chief advisor to the King of the most powerful of all the nine Kingdoms. He was a man rich in lands and titles, and not a few people were envious of him.  
  
But... but walking into that tiny, run-down apartment... all he had felt was resignation. Like, once Wendell figured out that he was a fraud, and a bad one at that, he would be right back in that apartment, kissing ass just to keep a job he hated, and hating himself a little more every day.  
  
He understood now why his daughter, who had always been a little smarter than him, had never gone back. It was why he had loaded the bag with beer instead of trinkets. With the exception of two photos (the one of his parents and one of his daughter, a laughing cat on her way to trick-or- treat) he wanted no part of the man he had been trailing him like muddy foot prints into his new, clean life.  
  
The beer, however... the beer he would share. He and Wendell and Virginia, and hell, even the Wolf, they would sit down one quiet night - maybe as soon as this festival was over – and drink to the death of Tony the Looser, and the eternal good health of Anthony Lewis... whoever the hell he turned out to be.  
  
He saluted the idea with his open bottle and downed what was left in it. With a sigh, he tossed the empty in the bag and picked it up again. He had spent so much of his old life blaming things. His life would be different if it wasn't for Christine, for his mother-in-law, for Bouncy Castles, for the beer. Even, god help him, for his daughter.  
  
The Kingdoms had proved one thing– it wasn't the beer. Or the castles, or the wife, or the daughter. He had made his own choices. And every day he had chosen again and again.  
  
Well, no more. He was done with that life and this place now. He needed to meet Virginia and Wolf in the park soon. While he went home, she was getting herself and Wolf packed up and checked out of the hotel, and then they had all planed to meet at the mirror.  
  
And Tony was glad. As much as he had missed New York, as much as he had missed this world, he knew this wasn't a good place for him anymore. Tony the Looser belonged in this world and the longer he, Anthony, stayed, the more likely he was to revert to the sad, bitter, and defeated human being who had been willing to sell the location of his daughter to a stranger, for just the hope of making a wish.  
  
He wanted that Tony dead– and the only way he knew to do that was to never come back here again.  
  
He walked on toward the park with a heavy heart...but without a backward glance.

* * *

"What exactly does one wear to a Ball?" Virginia asked in that odd accent and inflection she used when she was in a very good mood. She was pulling garments out of the closet and looking them over before flinging them on the king-sized bed. Next to the bed sat a huge black bag. It was obvious to Wolf that not all of clothes Virginia had selected were going to fit in it.  
  
"How should I know," he snapped an answer from the bed where he was watching her work. "It's not like I've ever been to one before."  
  
She gave him an odd look and shrugging, dropped a red jacket into the bag.  
  
He watched the fabric tumble as it fell, an oddly slow movement to his eyes. It landed in a crumpled and disregarded heap. He sat glaring at the bag for a long moment. He felt edgy– out of control, and not in a good way. His hackles kept trying to come up. "We're only going to be gone three days," he said flatly. "You don't need to take everything."  
  
She hummed distractedly, not looking at him. "We're not coming back here, Wolf. When we come back we'll need to start thinking about the future. And that won't happen in a hotel. So pack everything, okay?" She dumped another shirt into the bag.  
  
He growled. He couldn't help it. She finally looked at him, and her eyes narrowed. "Is there a problem?"  
  
"No." His voice was too thick, too husky. He tried to clear his throat.  
  
She regarded him in that infuriatingly superior way she had. "Then go pack," she said.  
  
"No," he said again. He felt strangely helpless. He stood, and, not able to think of where he should go, turned in a useless half circle before sitting back down.  
  
"You don't want to pack?" his mate asked carefully, watching him. Her scrutiny irritated him... and comforted him.  
  
"Why bother?"  
  
"You want your things, right?"  
  
"Yes- no. I don't know." He growled again, rubbing his hands on his thighs. In his confusion he fell back on common wisdom. "It's too much trouble to pack. If wolvies need something they take it along the way."  
  
She turned away from him again. "Suit yourself, but I want my stuff."  
  
"Of course you do," he regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, but couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes to show it. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. Maybe he had a headache.  
  
"And what does that mean?" Virginia snapped.  
  
"Nothing," he sighed heavily, not sure what was causing this bleak mood. He found himself rocking a little on the bed, and stilled the motion.  
  
"If I asked you to stay here, to not go, to just stay here with me, would you do it?" he asked abruptly.  
  
"What?"  
  
He met her eyes. "If I asked you not to go back, to just stay here, right here, with me...you wouldn't do it, would you."  
  
She blinked at him, "Why wouldn't you want to go back?"  
  
"Just answer the question! If I asked, would you stay?"  
  
"You know I don't appreciate that tone, Wolf," she snapped, dropping the jeans she was holding into the bag. Then her voice took on that sweetly- reasonable tone that made him want to bite somebody. "Now, I'm going to the festival. I've never been and I was invited, and I want to go. And I'm going to spend some time with my father and step-brother. You're free to do what you want." She went back to the closet.  
  
"And if what I want is us, here, together - nowhere near the Kingdoms? What if that's what I want? Will you ever care about what I want, or will it always be about poor little Virginia?" He huffed, and turned away from her crossing his arms.  
  
"You're being unreasonable. There's no reason not to go."  
  
"You're being selfish. I don't want to go. That's a reason."  
  
She glared at him, "I'm gonna pretend that you didn't say that."  
  
He laughed, a bitter little bark, "Sure. Why not. You're good at pretending things away."  
  
She gasped, the sound as loud to him as if he had physically struck her. "What?" she demanded, "What did you just say to me?"  
  
He clinched his jaws shut on the growl that wanted to come out. Clenched them so hard his teeth ached. He dropped his face into his hands, hiding eyes he was afraid would be red. And he was so, so... _scared_...and he loved her so much, and needed her, and she would never understand, or care...  
  
"Is it that time of the month?" she asked suddenly. "You've been off cycle since we got here...are you just PMSing?"  
  
The growl got away from him. "Not everything I feel is because of my cycle! I have perfectly normal, non-wolf driven feelings even though you my not like them. And for your information, I haven't cycled once since we came here! I don't think I even do that here!"  
  
"So you're just being a jerk for no good reason, then?" she sneered.  
  
"No more reason to it than you being blind."  
  
She regarded him for a long moment before rolling her eyes and turning back to her work, her movements sharp and angry. "Whatever."  
  
She was so obstinate. And she was so beautiful his heart hurt just to look at her sometimes. She was sensible and kind and brave...  
  
...and she was carrying his child...  
  
_Burn the Wolf!  
_  
He shuddered and jumped off the bed, snagging her arm and pulling her close, burying his nose in the nape of her neck, pulling in her sweet and powerful sent.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he near sobbed in her ear, clutching her.  
  
Her arms went around him, pulling him close, stroking his back. He shook in her arms like a day old cub. He couldn't help it.  
  
"What? Wolf, what is going on?" she breathed to him, holding him, and he could smell her confusion.  
  
He shook his head against her neck, squeezing her painfully tight, "If we go back...I'll- I'll change again. Be the wolf again." Suddenly he released her, putting her an arm's length away from himself. He met her startled eyes. "That- you- they..." He shook himself, and took a deep breath, forcibly calming himself. He wiped his eyes. "I'm going for a walk. I'll be at the mirror by sunset. I love you."  
  
And he was gone. Nothing more than a shadow in the gathering dark of the hall headed for the exit– even after she called out to him. 


	3. House of Red: Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Not mine. No money. At all. I'm sad.

* * *

~*~

_(Thursday 4:37 pm)_

Virginia actually enjoyed mirror travel. The speed of it, the recklessness, thrilled her the same way a rollercoaster did. She'd always been an e-ticket sort of gal.

But she couldn't enjoy the prospect right now.

"He's fine, you know," her dad said, sitting under the tree that housed the mirror.

"Yeah," she said, not looking away from the path. It was getting dark. "I know."

"It's not like he doesn't know how to handle a city. In fact, he does better in towns than in the country. Remember?"

"Yeah," she said again, watching the trees. "But you didn't see him this afternoon, dad. He was so…" she broke off, not sure just how he'd been other than he worried her. She bit at a nail and rubbed a hand over her ever expanding waist. What if her child was just as…unpredictable? Unruly? Dangerous, even?

"So wolfish?" her father finished for her. He shrugged, "What did you expect, sweetheart? He's not human."

She glared at him. "He's human." She thought so, at least. Oh God.

"Not really. Honey, I've been in the kingdoms for a while now. When they talk about the Wolves, they don't talk about them like they're people. They talk about them changing at the full moon, and hunting, and killing flocks and, and _farmers_. They are dangerous and unpredictable creatures, and you'd be better off without him around."

"I love him, dad," Virginia said. She swallowed, fighting the burning in her eyes and throat.

"I know," her dad said, looking at her with sympathy. "I know you do, honey. And I never want to hurt you, but the truth is that we don't really know anything about who, or what, he really is."

"You're not helping, dad," she said flatly. She sighed, looking away.

"I know. I'm sorry. But just loving someone doesn't make them good for you. I learned that lesson with your mother. And I worry about you. Especially when you're with him. He's just not safe."

"He's sweet. He's tender, and protective, and caring, and he's more… attentive to me than any person I've ever known."

"I think you mean obsessive about you."

"He loves me! And he's loyal, and he understands me!"

"Then where is he?" her father asked quietly.

She gulped in a breath. "He… he's just having a … mood. He'll be here."

"Having a mood," her dad shook his head. "Do you know you sound like a cult member? I'm pretty sure the people who followed Jim Jones thought he was attentive too. You know he just had these moods sometimes. Try the Kool-aid."

"That's not fair, dad."

"You're my daughter. I don't have to be fair if I think you're in trouble."

"I'm not in trouble, dad," she said tiredly. She slid down to sit beside him. "I'm just a little worried."

He reached over and rubbed her back. "I love you, and we'll make sure everything is all right eventually, but I won't lie to you and say there's no reason to be worried."

"Why are we worried?"

They both jumped a bit, flinching as Wolf slid silently from the trees. Virginia looked him over carefully, but he seemed much better, his eyes clear and his hands still. But there was an air of sadness around him that made her own heart hurt. For the first time she wondered if going back to the kingdoms was the right decision.

"Where have you been?" Tony demanded, standing.

"Walking," he answered, never taking his eyes from her. Wolf walked up to her and held out his hand, offering to help her to her feet.

She took it, letting him pull her up. "Are you okay?" she murmured as he pulled her close.

"I am now," he responded, holding her. "I'm okay whenever you're near. I just had to remember that."

She pulled back a bit. "So you're okay with going to the festival?"

He nodded, "If it's what you want, then I'm fine." He let her go, giving them both a goofy grin. "Besides, the look on all those prissy royal pusses when they have to be polite to a wolfie will be just _too_ much fun to miss."

"Great! Then can we go before the cops show up and I get sent to jail for the rest of my life?" Tony grumped, turning to the tree and working on activating the mirror.

As the air around the tree shimmered, Virginia tugged at Wolf's hand. "I know you're not okay. That grin doesn't hide as much as you think it does."

He looked at her for a long moment, the grin fading slowly. Then he simply leaned over and kissed the top of her head and followed Tony through the mirror without speaking.

Virginia wiped away the tear that had gotten loose, cursing. She _hated_ crying. Somehow she was sure that she had made a mistake somewhere along the way – but for the life of her she couldn't figure out just where.

Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head and squared her shoulders. This was what she'd wanted. It was time to pay up.

"Into the woods," she muttered, and stepped into the tree.

~*~

To say that the palace was bustling would be like saying the Grand Canyon was a ditch. Virginia's eyes were wide as she and Wolf followed her father through the gleaming halls. Servants hurried about doing chores while the lower royalty supervised. "Wow. They're going all out, aren't they?"

"You have no idea," her dad said. "They've been prepping this place for _weeks_. Every female royal and head of state will be here for at least three days. The plans for who's sleeping in which bedroom alone have taken years."

A young maid, barely a teen, suddenly rounded the corner and scurried down the hall toward them, her arms full of linens. Not able to see over the stack, she bounced off of Tony, grabbing for the laundry before it could fall. "Sorry," she squeaked as she looked up, then gasped, bobbing and awkward curtsy at Tony. "Lord Anthony! Excuse me, please! I know that we lower maids aren't to be in the main halls, but these beddings was needed by the Housekeeper and she sent me to fetch them right quick, and I was to hurry, and I didn't think anyone of account would be in this wing at the mo… I'm so sorry! Please don't tell Housekeeper!" The girl was nearly in tears as she bobbed another curtsy, averting her eyes from her 'betters'.

"It's okay. You know I don't mind. It's a stupid rule anyway. You girls are just doing your jobs," her dad said, smiling slightly. "Go on now. Don't keep Housey waiting. You know how she gets."

"Yes, sir!" she bobbed again, deeply, and almost dropping her stack. "Thank you, sir!" She edged around the group, back to the other wall, and Virginia felt a strange mixture of pity and a slight irritation at her obvious submissiveness. The girl darted little looks at them as she passed, especially Virginia. The girl stared at her as if she were some sort of strange and exotic bird and she was storing up the details to tell to her grandchildren. Virginia cocked an eyebrow back at the girl, slightly amused at the understated awe in her eyes. She blushed and shifted her gaze.

The girl's eyes fell on Wolf, who had been standing, still and silent, behind Virginia – and Virginia watched as the girl stiffened, her eyes widening not with awe, but with fear and disgust. "Wolf," she hissed, her once pretty little features twisted into an ugly sneer. She stepped as far away as the hall would allow as she edged passed him. "He shouldn't be here, Lord Anthony, he really shouldn't. He's dangerous, and evil, and he'll spread his filth in the halls of White, and neither his Majesty nor Housekeeper will be pleased."

And the strangest part was that, though her face never lost its look of scorn, her voice was almost kind and Virginia realized that she was trying to help out 'Lord Anthony', to keep him from trouble the same way he had been willing to overlook her blunder. The fact that Wolf was a thinking, feeling _person_ who could hear words her never crossed her mind.

Behind her, Virginia felt Wolf stiffen, then relax in a way that made her very nervous. She could feel his breath, hot against her neck as her stepped closer, crowding the girl without actually approaching her.

"I have always liked the way that housemaids flitter about," he said in Virginia's ear, just loud enough to be overheard. "So nimble and…sweet."

The girl let out an "Eep!" and jumped, clutching her stack of laundry and turning to scurry away as fast as she could.

"Wolf," Virginia said, shoving an elbow into his sternum. "That wasn't helpful."

He chuffed, rubbing at his chest. "She deserved it. Besides, it's not like I really did anything."

"Still, you upset her. She was just a strange little thing. She had obvious issues."

"No," Tony said. "She was pretty normal. There are some things about this place I don't like. They are very particular, here. You're born into a station, and that's where you stay until you die. If your mother was a maid, you'll be a maid, and your daughters will be maids. There is no moving up. And if you're a maid, you need to be invisible to the 'betters', up to and including turning your face against the wall if they happen to be walking past, so that they don't have to acknowledge your existence. It makes me very …uncomfortable sometimes. That girl could have been slapped by the Housekeeper for letting us see her working. Or she could have been fired, which is worse."

"Being fired is worse than getting hit?" Virginia demanded.

"Yep, in this case it is. A girl discharged from her last employment won't get a reference. Without a reference, she can't get another position in a different house. Without a job, she has no money, no roof, no food, and no legal rights because she's a girl. Without any of that, she won't get a husband, and without a husband she can't have a home, because women can't legally buy property. If she looses her job, she's screwed."

"Wait," Virginia said, "you're telling me that girl could loose _everything_ because she walked down the wrong hallway?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Tony said. He sighed. "This place has a long way to go for people who aren't royalty."

"You have no idea, Tony," Wolf muttered, pushing past them to continue down the hall. "You really have no idea at all."

~*~

The maid had irritated him. Wolf could freely admit that as he pushed pasted Tony and took the lead. Tony may now live in the Palace, but Wolf knew he could locate the King much faster by using his nose, and the encounter with maid had him wanting to get this whole festival over with as quickly as possible. It just proved that nothing ever changed. 'Lord' Tony was a hero, Wendell was King, and Virginia had achieved _above_ royal status by being a 'Great Woman', a woman whose story would be told for generations. She would be more powerful than Wendell in most situations. But him – the wolf who had been with them nearly every step of the journey, who had, in fact, saved _all_ of the royals of _all_ of the houses at the coronation – well, he was just a wolf. First, last, and in between, he was a wolf.

And everybody knew what that meant.

He growled.

"What's your problem?" Tony demanded.

He clenched his fists. "Nothing. No problem."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Dad," Virginia said, "leave him alone."

They didn't speak again until Wolf walked up to an ornate door. Tony snorted. "That kid never leaves the council room anymore."

As Tony opened the door, the conversation inside stopped and Wendell stood. He smiled and held out a hand. "Virginia. Welcome. I'm so glad you could make it."

Virginia stepped forward, taking his hand and kissing his cheek. "Hey, Wendell. Thanks for inviting us." The Council members had also stood, and now bowed deeply toward her. Tony rolled his eyes.

Wolf skulked in the doorway, unnoticed and unacknowledged.

"My dearest sister, in spirit, if not in blood. I could hardly have called this gathering a festival if you had not conceded to attend. Now, it will truly be worthy of the title of 'celebration'."

She gave him an amused smile. "You are become quite the charmer, my prince."

He leaned in conspiratorially, "I'm practicing. Do you think it will win me a bride this weekend?"

"You'll be beating them off with a stick," she assured him.

"That's the general idea," he grinned, squeezed her hand, then looked behind her. "Oh, and, Anthony, when you didn't return yesterday I had the royal tailor reschedule you for this afternoon." He glanced at his watch. "You should just have time to make it."

"Uh, I would love to," Tony said, making _love to_ sound like _I would rather have my teeth pulled by a deranged fairy_, "but I, uh, should really see that my daughter –"

"Oh, yes," Wendell interrupted. "Excellent idea, Anthony. I had the tailor make you up some gowns, Virginia, I hope you don't mind. You can have your fittings while your father has his." Wendell grinned at Tony, only a little slyness in his eyes. "That will take of both problems nicely. Thank you so much for suggesting it, Anthony. You may be dismissed to go and take care of that, then." He winked at Virginia.

She shook her head, smiling. "Oh, that's wonderful," she said, obviously playing along. She turned and took her father's arm. "Lead on, dad. I want to see my new dresses."

"Yeah, but I don't want to see mine," Tony whined as he lead her through the door.

And then there was a moment, after Virginia and Tony had stepped out of the room, but Wolf was still there, next to the doorway. And Wendell met his eyes.

The Council members began muttering darkly. Wolf stiffened. Wendell waved a hand at the old men at the table, stilling them.

"Wolf," he said.

"King," Wolf answered, not looking away.

"You _are_ welcome here," Wendell said, and ignored the gasps of those gentlemen. "In my house, in my lands, be assured that you are indeed to be made welcome. Or I will know why."

Wolf twitched, a surprised little jerk of his head, before bowing his head slightly – not submissively, but as he would have to a pack-mate. "Thanks. I'll try to be good." He scratched at his brow, then, in a flash of movement, turned and followed his mate down the hall.

And if he had to hear the uproar that Wendell's proclamation had caused through the open door behind him, well that wasn't Wendell's fault.

~*~

The first two days of the festival had passed in a fantastic swirl of colors and foods and music. Virginia had been in the center of much of the doings, as the young would-be queens flocked to the newest 'Great Woman' – only to find that she was also the beloved step-sister of the delectable young King they had been brought to court to catch. Virginia was both amused and flattered by the attention – and by the voluptuous gowns that Wendell had ordered made for her, and by the fact that many of the women at court had, after the first night, cut their hair to match her style. The atmosphere that the husband hunting females created reminded her very much of a high-school dance, where the cliques ruled and the 'haves' set the cliques. Virginia had never been popular – her father had been a janitor after all – so she was reveling in the role of prom-queen…she even had a little entourage that followed her around all day. And all night, too. The festival left her no time to sleep as she was awake all night dancing and gambling, or listening to the singing and poetry; and she spent all day attending the storytellers, and puppet shows (she would always remember the moment of shock and embarrassment when she heard her own story told with great liberties and dramatic embellishments). She toured the open fairs, and joined jovial brunches and elegant teas. There was always something going on, something new to do or see or try. She was in seventh heaven.

She was so caught up in being the bell of the ball, literally, that she didn't notice the lack of fun being had by her father and step-brother. Tony was simply irritated. He was stuck in a dress, acting as the sober chaperone/bodyguard to his young King as Wendell was systematically mauled by a line of desperate females, each with a better pedigree and less personality than the one before. He also had to run interference with the councilors, who wanted to auction off Wendell's wedding night to the highest bidder.

Wendell was not enjoying the process of bride-finding anymore than Anthony. It consisted mainly of hours of insipid conversation and having his feet trod on. He couldn't believe that he had once found these creatures to be the _high_est of society, the_ best_ of the aristocracy, the only _suit_able companions for a prince of the house of White. Now he found them boring and short-sighted. They were, as a whole, weak things, with little moral fiber. They had much to say, but little enough worth hearing. He didn't fit with them anymore, these 'worthies' who had once been his friends and companions. And that was worrisome. If he didn't fit with them, then did that mean he wasn't fit? He supposed that it might be a sign that he was finally growing up. Becoming a man, his _own_ man, instead of just a prince or a king. He wondered that being a man should be the harder of them.

In any case, he had privately narrowed his bride choices down to a handful of daughters of the lower houses and lesser nobility – which was something that his chancellors would never stand for. His marriage should be a careful balance of political influences and monetary concerns. If he should abandon all of that in favor of someone he simply found likeable… they would – in Virginia's expressive phrasing – have a hissy fit. So he did his duty and danced with all the royal daughters, and kept his thoughts to himself. For now.

As evening fell on the third day of the festival, Wolf was also keeping his thoughts to himself. He'd watched from the shadows and the doorways as his mate played with the frilly, silly girls; and he couldn't fault her for it. He knew she was only enjoying the ability to be leader of the pack for awhile. But he also knew he couldn't join in. He wouldn't be accepted by her temporary companions. No more than he was accepted by anyone in the palace. From royal to drudge, he was universally snubbed.

He slouched in thresholds, gilded-up in his finery, and watched as the royals twirled through the twin dances of music and society. He ate when the buffets were first set up as to miss the mass of the other guests. He followed Virginia from room to room, always watching, always wary, but careful to not draw attention to himself.

Maybe that was why, on the last night of the festival, he was the only one to notice the girl sneak into the ballroom. Nibbling at a leftover bone, Wolf's eyes narrowed as the young girl made her tentative way through the servants door, ducking the ladies-in-waiting and dodging the footmen. Her dress was tattered homespun, her feet were bare and bloodied. She'd obviously been traveling for some distance. Wolf could smell her desperation and fear from across the wide room, even over the perfumes and sweet-oils.

Absently, Wolf snapped the bone open, sucking the marrow from it. He was so caught up in watching the child that he didn't even notice the disdainful looks from the nobles near him. The girl was obviously terrified of the palace servants and the royal crowd, yet she pressed on, darting around the fringes of the room like a hummingbird… or an unwelcome Wolf. The question was why. Why was she here?

It was inevitable that she would be seen. She stood out in this primped and polished mob. One of the footmen approached her, and Wolf frowned as the man caught her by the neck of her dress, and yanked. His eyes narrowed as the man lifted the child by the scruff, like a naughty puppy, and began frog-marching the girl toward the door. The girl's feet barley touched the floor, and she was obviously sobbing as the bigger, stronger man dragged her toward the servant's door. The route he chose was discreet, jerking her back along the ignored edges of the crowd, being as subtle as possible. The few nobles who noticed the little scuffle turned away from the sobbing child with a slight look of distaste on their elegant faces, as if the had spotted a servant taking out the trash.

Wolf was already moving as the footman yanked again at the girl. He growled as he saw her tattered dress rip in the man's grip. Wolf watched as she fell, still too far away to help her. She had been caught off-balance because of the way the man had been yanking at her, and she could not catch herself.

– and he saw the man's foot pull back as the footman aimed a kick at the fallen child.

Wolf leaped; his vision blurred and tunneled, his attention focused completely on the bastard. Wolf slammed into the servant, grabbing the man's lapels as he shoved his body back, into the wall. Around him he heard the shouts and cries of royals, who darted out of the way, but he didn't care. The man was going to hurt a child whose only crime had been to come to a party uninvited. He didn't care about offending noble sensibilities. He knew his eyes were glowing. Didn't care. He grinned, a bearing of teeth that couldn't be mistaken for pleasantness.

"Don't you touch that cub," he snarled, his tone quiet and more dangerous because of it.

The footman shrank from him, as far as his coat and the wall would allow. Behind him he heard some female mutter "beast!" and from someone else: "Stop that creature!"

The footman's eyes were darting, the man was squirming in Wolf's hands – which was a bad idea, as it brought all his hunter's instincts to the surface. He could smell the man's sweat, could taste the fear and the leftover whiffs of pleasure the man had gotten from threatening the girl.

His mouth flooded with saliva. His jaw felt thicker, stronger. He wanted – _needed_ – to bite so _badly_.

His head jerked, snapping at the air in front of the man's face; he barely restrained himself from rending flesh.

Then there was a hand on his shoulder, tugging insistently. "Wolf! No! Stop it!"

He rounded on his beloved, still holding the footman against the wall, and her eyes widened in surprise at the red of his. "He was going to hurt this child."

She glanced down at the still sobbing girl, and then turned her angry gaze on the servant pinned to the wall. "You were going to do what?"

"Never!" the man gasped, trying and failing to free himself. "Madam, I would never hurt the girl...I was merely trying to get her out of the room! It's obvious she has no place here."

Wolf growled.

"Would someone like to tell _me_ what is going on?"

The crowd of gawking nobles parted, allowing King Wendell and Lord Anthony through. Wendell looked merely curious ... but Tony looked pissed.

"Wolf said this jerk was going to hurt the little girl," Virginia said, kneeling down to help the sobbing child to her feet.

"Surely you aren't listing to the Wolf?" demanded an anonymous voice from the crowd.

"Surely you aren't trying to tell the _King_ what to do?" Virginia snapped back.

The surrounding nobles dropped their heads submissively, but the general muttering continued.

"Thank you, Virginia," Wendell said, and reached a hand down to help both his step-sister and the girl stand. "Now, Wolf, if you don't mind...?"

With a final growl, Wolf reluctantly loosed his hold on the footman, allowing the man to drop to his feet.

Wendell nodded, satisfied. "Now. Let's have the full story, if you don't mind."

The girl stood shaking in Virginia's arms, as the Footman again stumbled through his tale of seeing a peasant who had no place in the palace, and that he was only removing the girl before she could cause trouble. "I was only doing my job, your Majesty. Honestly."

Wolf, who had positioned himself between Virginia and the girl and the footman, snorted.

Wendell motioned him to stillness, and turned to the girl. "And you, young miss. What have you to say about the matter?"

A tear slipped down the trembling girl's pale cheek. "M-matter? Sir?"

Wendell smiled softly. "How did you come to be here, little miss?"

She scrubbed at her cheek, sniffling. "I was asked to come."

An incredulous titter ran through the watching crowd. The girl cringed, Virginia glared, Wolf bristled. Wendell ignored them. "Asked by whom, pray tell?"

"This is preposterous!" a new, shrill voice piped in; and the crowd surged, tossing out a middle-aged woman wearing a ridiculous costume of ball-gown and red veils. "Really, Wendell, I can not believe you would lower yourself to talk to this filthy creature! I'm already bored. Tell the footman to take that... _thing_ out, and let us proceed with our evening."

"Queen Riding-hood," Wendell said calmly, "I apologize for this horrid interruption in your evening -- heaven knows, I would never do anything to come between such a beautiful creature and her chosen entertainment, but such unpleasant things do crop up in a ruler's life, as you well know." He sighed dramatically, as if it was just too, too trying. "So, as this is _my_ thrown-room, I will just deal with this little fiasco in my own fashion, hum?"

Riding-hood tossed her head a bit, making it obvious that she was not pleased by the slight, but dipped her head and backed once again into the crowd.

Wendell turned back to his family, rolling his eyes. Wolf snorted in agreement, while Tony shook his head. "Well, there goes the option of marring her." Tony muttered.

"That was never an option." Wendell replied, equally low-voiced.

"_She_ certainly thought it was."

"She was wrong on many levels." Wendell turned to the girl once again. "So, miss, we will hear your side of it now."

The girl took a deep, if shaky, breath, clearing her throat and straightening her shoulders. Virginia stepped back a bit, giving her some space.

"Sir, King Wendell of the House of White, I carry a message to you."

Wendell frowned. "A message from whom?"

The girl swallowed, her eyes darting to the glaring Queen Riding-hood, before speaking again. "The Gray-Lady would call a council of the rulers, my Lord. She would have you do so in your name, since others will not heed her call. She begs your forgiveness in sending me, a child, to speak for her, but she had no way of contacting you herself. She would ask, even in the event that you refuse her summons, that you would grant safety and safe passage to her em... ema.."

"Emissary?" Virginia asked.

"Emissary," the girl said, relived.

Wendell gave the girl a sad, lopsided smile. "I think safety for her emissary is a reasonable request. But I also think her emissary should be feed and cleaned and rest a bit before partaking of this passage. Beckley," Wendell called, and was instantly attended by his personal valet. "Beckley, please escort this charming and brave young Lady to the blue room. See that she is attended by a ladies maid, someone kind," he warned in an undertone, "and that she is fed, bathed, her injuries seen too, and have the seamstress make her a new frock. And shoes. Thank you."

"Sir!" the girl gasped, boldly and desperately snagging at Wendell's lace cuff. "Sir, thank you, but what of my message? What should I tell my Lady?"

Wendell, sighed, dropping to one knee and taking the girl's hands. "My fine, brave, young Miss, we shall talk on these things after you have had a chance to rest. I must speak to my advisors on these things; but be assured that we will talk again before you return to your Lady, and then you will have my answer to her."

The girl looked at him, judging... then pulled her hands free. She lifted the hem of her skirt, ignoring the gasps of the watching nobility, and with a solid jerk she tore the seam. She pulled a small square of folded paper free of the new hole in her skirt, handing it to Wendell.

"From my Lady," she said.

Wendell took it with a respectful nod. "Again, I thank you, Miss. And I ask you, will you go with Beckley?"

Wendell stood, passing the girl's hand to the smiling valet, and nodded them from the room. As the walked through the crowd, Wendell signaled his guard. "Follow them. I want her protected," he ordered quietly. And the guard hurried after.

"Wendell," Tony started, stepping up and taking his arm, but Wendell held up a hand.

"My dear guests," Wendell said, his voice cutting through the muttering spectators. "Well, that was just fascinating!"

There was a general laugh.

"There is no telling what the peasants will get up to just to be around royalty! It's quite pathetic, really."

"So you don't believe the child's story?" asked a voice.

Wendell looked shocked. "What, that the Grey-Lady is sending emissaries for the first time in two generations, and that she chose a rag-tag child for the job? That's about as likely as a troll knowing his salad fork from his fish!"

Again, a laugh.

"Most likely the girl is just hungry and a little crazed. Feeding her will cost me nothing, and she can go about her way in the morning. Poor, filthy little creature." He shook his head sadly. "Ah, well," he continued, more brightly. "Let's not let this little drama spoil any more of our fun! Play!" he ordered the band, and the crowd dispersed talking animatedly, the young ladies impressed with his kindness toward the child.

"Wendell," Tony tried again. "How serious is this."

"Very," Wendell responded, never loosing his smile. He opened the letter, eyes moving over the words. "Very, very serious. Call the royal council together. Now."


End file.
